


Morning People

by XtaticPearl



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, POV Bruce Banner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 14:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14546517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XtaticPearl/pseuds/XtaticPearl
Summary: Bruce sees things that maybe Steve and Tony don't. It's amusing at times, when it's not mildly worrying.





	Morning People

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: It's 6 am in the morning, you are not having vodka.

Bruce genuinely hoped that the villain of the day was terrible as he pulled off his headphones to check the data again.

“It's got to be Hammer,” Clint groused as he blearily gnawed on a double sugar chewing gum, “He's got that insane energy hike peppy thing going. This level of torture can come only from his fuc-"

“Caffeine,” Steve pushed another mug of strong coffee into Clint's hand as he walked past him towards Tony, “And we don't know who it is, so making assumptions will only catch us in a corner later.”

“Doom would  _ never _ attack this early,” Bruce quipped as he pushed his glasses up, getting back to his seat on the Quinjet, “He prefers a later time.”

“He has his aesthetic,” Thor nodded and Bruce bit back a grin as Steve shot an exhausted look skyward, “I think I heard him monologue about it once. Or maybe it was about his inner darkness. I'm not sure.”

“I don't get why the fantastic family downtown can't handle it,” Natasha griped, mood sour over both the lack of information and the lack of rest, “Stark, any news from Richards? Or is he out of Earth?”

There was no response and Bruce looked over to see Tony grimly eye a bottle of clear liquid in his hand, eyes tight around the edges. He had his suit on but his helmet was off, face visible in all its tired glory. Even from his distance, Bruce could see the dark circles and bags under Tony’s eyes, mentally wincing at the iron grip he had on the bottle. He clearly was on the edge. 

“Tony?” Natasha prompted again and Tony hummed absently before clearing his throat.

“Nope, not yet,” he answered, voice tense, “Fury’s being a bitch about secrecy again.”

“We’ll find out in minutes,” Steve said calmly and Bruce watched it happen clearly. Steve’s eyes fixed on the bottle and a frown began to settle in, his mouth opening before Bruce’s mind caught up.

Bruce saw Steve lean down and swipe the bottle from Tony’s hand quickly and noted belatedly that Tony’s reaction time was slower.

“It’s 6 am in the morning,” Steve said firmly, already pressing the coffee cup into Tony’s empty hand briskly, “you are not having vodka.”

Tony blinked at the travel cup in his hand and Bruce could  _ see _ his mood shift, something closing off, as he looked up at Steve. If he were more dramatic, Bruce would say that the temperature had dropped rapidly at the look Tony shot Cap, but all he did was watch as the genius opened his mouth and shut it without a word. 

“Avengers! Prepare for descent,” JARVIS announced over the intercom and Bruce saw Tony put the coffee beside him, untouched, slipping on the helmet. 

“Let’s go,” Iron Man said curtly and side-stepped Steve as he went to the hangar area, leaving a momentarily stunned Steve. 

Bruce busied himself into his own work and didn’t focus on the others till Natasha and Steve were ready to leave, the last of the lot. 

“What -”

“It was water,” Natasha said quietly, a pointed muttering in their silence as they left the jet, “You don’t mix headache pills and alcohol. Well, he doesn’t anymore.”

Bruce bit back a wince and caught sight of Steve’s face as they walked into the fray. 

It didn’t matter that it was Hammer out to ruin the day. Bruce knew that Steve had probably, unintentionally, ruined something bigger. 

By the expression he had seen on Steve’s face, it seemed like the man knew it too. 

\---

Post battle exhaustion was always conflicting, a mix of relief and yearning for unconsciousness. With Bruce, it mingled with ravenous hunger, and he knew that the common floor kitchen had the better stocked fridge, a credit to the complete disregard for private space that had often led the others to use this kitchen the most. Most of the others had passed out or were gorging on the pizza that Clint had ordered (or rather, told JARVIS to order) somewhere in Thor’s floor. He considered joining them with the heated leftovers from the massive dinner they had made the previous night, but was derailed when he heard voices as he approached the kitchen. 

“- didn’t know and -”

“No harm done, Cap” Tony’s voice sounded cheerful, the kind that he used on WSC or the press, “Here, have some juice. This is pineapple juice, by the way. I know it doesn’t look like it sometimes.”

_ Ouch _ , Bruce thought mildly but Steve wasn’t fighting back by the sound of it and he wondered if it was wiser to leave undetected or just - wait.

“I really - Tony, I’m sorry,” Steve said and Bruce could hear the honesty in his voice, the tone that seemed to come out most often when Tony turned to him. It was amusing on some level but mostly exasperating to watch both of them be completely gone for each other, most affected by the other, and yet remain obstinately oblivious. 

There was a moment of silence before Bruce heard Tony again. 

“It’s fine, I’m just in a mood today,” Tony sighed, sounding exhausted and Bruce raised his brows when the genius continued in a more sheepish tone, “And - it’s good to know that, you know, you care about - it.”

“Care - of course I care about it, Tony,” Steve insisted, the sound of two footsteps filling the pause before he spoke again, “I didn’t know that you had a headache even if you  _ do _ look like crap.”

“Gee, thanks, hon,” Tony laughed tiredly.

“I’m also not happy that you went to fight without having the medicine, but that’s equally on me,” Steve quipped and Bruce heard Tony’s mock-annoyed noise that he did when Steve put an arm around his shoulder sometimes, “I should have asked instead of presumed. I’m sorry, Shellhead.”

“Oh god, it’s fine, you can stop with the cute puppy dog look,” Tony huffed and Bruce bit back a grin at Steve’s reply.

“Didn’t you say I’m always cute?” the Captain quipped and continued over Tony’s faux-groan, “Alright, c’mon, I wasn’t kidding about you looking exhausted. Your head must be killing you by now. Let’s get some food into you and then you need to rest.”

“I’ve got work and -”

“And it will happen well, I’m sure, but I’ve got duties too and those include making sure you don’t collapse from fatigue,” Steve replied and Bruce heard the sound of a chair, probably Steve making Tony sit down, “A few bites and an hour’s sleep won’t change the ‘awesomeness level’ of your work.”

“Aww, you’re flattering me,” Tony teased and Bruce heard the mild sounds of plates being taken, “You  _ do _ love me, Winghead.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve cleared his throat and Bruce could  _ visualize _ the blush that he always fought off his Irish skin, “Eat your food, genius.”

As Bruce decided to go find food elsewhere, he heard Tony speak again, quieter this time. 

“Hey, after this,” Tony said between sounds of forks meeting plates, “maybe we could talk about something? There’s - something I’ve been thinking about. Well, doing, actually. And I think you might - well, I don’t know if you’ll  _ like _ it but uh -”

“We’ll talk about it, Tony,” Steve said reassuringly, quieting Tony’s nerves and Bruce remembered the AA pamphlets he had found in the lab, misplaced on his worktable. He remembered Natasha’s thoughtful look the previous evening, when Tony had come back from a meeting. 

“We’ll talk about everything,” Steve promised and Bruce let himself out of the floor, trusting that sometimes the universe had its own way and moments of putting things together. Or in this case, people. 


End file.
